Mirrors
by CallMeKills
Summary: I leaned in, staring at my reflection, squeezing my eyes shut. When they opened, he was there.  A fallen angel, cool breath in my ear,  eyes boring into mine. I whirled around. No one was there. I looked back again. The mirror was shattered. So was I.
1. For Harry

**Disclaimer: **The Harry Potter franchise belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**A/N: **So here is the start of a new fic, this one being a TomxGinny time travel story. :) It will be quite dark and angsty, so if that isn't your cup of tea, this might not be for you. This first bit is more of a prologue and will be further explained in the next chapter, so to get a feel for the story please check out the next update! Enjoy…

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><p><strong><span>Mirrors<span>**

Chapter One

For Harry

_Fear and panic in the air_  
><em>I want to be free<em>  
><em>From desolation and despair<em>  
><em>And I feel like everything I sow<em>  
><em>Is being swept away<em>  
><em>Well I refuse to let you go<em>

"Map of the Problematique" - Muse

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><p><em>...The scream of anguish ripped through my lips before I even registered that I was making a sound. It bounced off the rock cliffs and returned to my ears in a mocking dance, reverberating around my skull. The raindrops were ice on my aching body, but as the tears fell, I could soon no longer tell what came from the heavens and what came from my painfully mortal eyes. <em>

_Then...red. Ruby. Scarlet. _

_My vision blurred with blood. Not satisfied with a killing curse, Fenrir Greyback had lunged for my mother's dead throat._

_"No!" I screamed over the thundering downpour as my shaking fingers fumbled for my wand. Feral eyes snapped to me. Lithe muscles tensed for the kill. Someone screamed my name, and strong arms gripped my waist and I felt a tug in my navel..._

_..."Shhh," Hermione soothed as she stroked my hair. Her fingers snagged a knot in the mass of crimson, but I was too tired to notice. My head was buried in her chest and she cradled me like a mother would a child. The rhythm of her hand slowed my heartbeat. My breathing steadied and I slipped in and out of a dreamless sleep. I did not have the luxury of fluffy pillows, silken sheets, and a deep sleep. All too used to being awakened and pulled from my slumber to flee in the dead of night, I had to survive on these snatched moments of blissful unconsciousness. I faintly heard a pull of a zipper as two sets of feet stumbled into our tent. One cleared his throat. That was Ron. _

_"Kinglsey's dead."_

_Tears dripped into my hair from above..._

_...I gripped the edge of the porcelain sink as I stared into the depths of the mirror and took in my appearance. My long red hair lay lank and tangled, and the blood on my face had dried into veins of a rich brown. My eyes were dark. Hooded and guarded. Broken. Half-alive. _

_A year ago I would have been appalled. I would carefully brush my coveted strands until my mane was restored to its usual lustre. I would quickly wash the blood and sweat from my face lest it clogged my pores. I would moisturize, highlight, and accentuate. I would exfoliate, tweak, and primp. I would make myself look beautiful. But that didn't matter anymore. I had no reason to be beautiful. Death Eaters don't spare you if you're beautiful. Beauty doesn't help save the world._

_The faucet dripped. A fly buzzed around the fluorescent light overhead as it flickered, eventually surging and further illuminating the room. I noticed that the mirror was cracked. A jagged line cut into the surface...If I positioned myself just so, it looked as if it was on my forehead. For a second, just for a second, I pretended I was the Chosen One instead of him, I was the sacrifice in the name of all good in the world, I was the one who had to die_-

_But big girls don't play pretend, Ginny..._

_...Nightmare. It was a nightmare. The flames engulfing Hogwarts created a demonic silhouette against the night sky. Smoke rolled off the structure in waves of suffocating ash. I looked to the entrance, where students were pouring out. I'd have thought that most of them would have left by now, but I suppose many were fooled by the illusion of safety in the stone walls and warm, inviting hearths. I tried to pick out faces, ones I knew, ones I recognized. But covered in dirt and blood, mouths open in silent screams, they all looked the same. _

_The west wing exploded in a blinding flash of light, and ash clouded my vision. Hogwarts: the one place he wouldn't dare touch. Well, not anymore..._

_...The Firewhisky scorched my throat as I sipped and guzzled the dusty bottle, but I didn't care. It gave me a chance to feel without danger of true pain. An impossible tightrope with a no-fail safety net. I looked to Harry as I passed him the drink. As he drained the final dregs, his eyes met mine. Neither of us broke the gaze as he lowered the bottle and cupped my cheek in his calloused hand. My skin tingled. From the touch? From the alcohol? It didn't matter as his lips descended on mine. My eyes squeezed shut. Last kiss...Last kiss...Last kiss... The words rang in my mind. I ignored them. After all, I'd been hearing them for the past month..._

_...Waves crashed against the rocky cliff and somewhere in the distance lightning split the sky. It was chaos. It was hell. I didn't care. They were gone. I faced the ocean and screamed. I screamed for Mum. For Dad. For Bill, Charlie, Percy. For Fred and George. For Ron. For my family..._

_…Too familiar. The sight of the rolling clouds molding into the shape of a skull was becoming all too familiar. I glimpsed flashes of the Dark Mark between the overhanging branches as we stumbled along through the bush. Harry gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. But we both knew the promise of safety was empty. Nevertheless, the gesture gave me a surge of hope, and with an extra burst of speed we came to a clearing. I collapsed. So did he. But we found each other and rode out the ragged breaths together..._

_...They faced in the ruins of the Great Hall. Quite fitting, thought the part of my brain that was not numbed from the strains of battle and the abject terror darting through my body, as I stared at the scene unfolding before me. I was crouched behind a jagged stone outcrop, hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak. Hidden, but helpless. Powerless. Though I knew this was how it should be, Harry facing Him alone, I was maddened by the notion that this was not in my control._

_Harry was calm. Embracing it. Accepting it. The Death Eaters formed a border of jeering and jostling around Harry, but not one of them dared move closer than that. Look but don't touch..._

_He was here now. An icy chill swept over the hall. It froze the taunts right from the mouths of the Death Eaters. I imagined them hanging crystallized, suspended in the cold air, then dropping to the floor, shattering upon impact. All was silent. Unnaturally so. He materialized slowly in front of Harry, stepping from pure, swirling black magic. A whimper escaped my lips as every instinct told m to run. To get away from this monster who had torn me apart so long ago, leaving wounds that had never truly healed. But I didn't leave. I couldn't. Not now. I had to stay strong. For Harry._

_No time was wasted. Arm raised. High, cold laughter. Cruelty in human form. Harry, defenseless, not even trying. Thundering heartbeat. Mine? Harry's? His? No, not His; he had no heart. He felt nothing. Nothing at all. _

_Flash of green._

_Life extinguished._

_Goodbye, Harry._

_Goodbye, my love._

_Everything went black…_

_..."Take it, Ginny." _  
><em>Hermione's tear-streaked face twisted into an expression of pleading that cut through to my soul. "We don't have much time."<em>  
><em>The flashes of gold glinted out from within her curled fist. My mind reeled as I realized what this would entail. If I took it...It I used it...<em>  
><em>"Meddling with time is dangerous," I whispered halfheartedly. It was a pathetic excuse. I was grasping at straws. Anything...Anything to keep from going back to him...<em>  
><em>"I know," Hermione breathed. "But it's the only option we have left." She held out the timeturner. It pulsed a rusty glow in the dying firelight. "For Harry."<em>

_For Harry._

_It took it and slowly draped the chain over my head. It felt like noose. My shaking fingers began fumbling with the tiny knob. I paused, unsure. My eyes met hers in silent question. "1943." she whispered, turning away. "His year." _  
><em>Nodding, I forced back the unbridled fear that threatened to overwhelm me and set the timeturner. A golden glow began to envelop me and I felt a warm tingle spread throughout my body. A bang sounded as masked Death Eaters burst through the door, wands drawn. Quickly overwhelming Hermione, two lunged for me, but only grasped air as I faded into the blackness…<em>

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><p>Well there you go. Hope you're not too confused! Look for Chapter Two coming soon...<br>In the meantime, please review!

Love, Kills


	2. Burdens of a Future

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter franchise belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**A/N: **So the story starts to get on its feet now...I hope the first chapter wasn't too confusing. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Mirrors<strong>

Chapter Two

Burdens of a Future

_I was the one with the world at my feet__  
><em>_Got us a battle, leave it up to me__  
><em>_What it is and where it stops nobody knows__  
><em>_You gave me a life I never chose__  
><em>_I wanna leave but the world won't let me go_

"Blindness" - Metric

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><p>He released the spell.<p>

I lay curled up on the hospital bed, gasping for air. My clawed hands had twisted the blankets into a mass of winding fabric, jagged nails sinking into the white linen. Desperately anchoring me to this world. To this reality. My vision blurred with tears that threatened to escape my eyes and join their sisters staining my cheeks.

It hurt.

It hurt in every sense of the word. Memories surfaced and swirled around my head like a whirlwind of rustling leaves in a sudden autumn storm. Stinging, slicing. Latching on and sticking to my clammy skin. I recoiled from them, struggling to push them back. I'd seen enough. Relived enough. After months of perfecting Occulmency, I'd forgotten how horrible is was to have my mind invaded, even if it was with my consent.

The invader in question sat still as a statue on a chair beside my bed. He gazed out the window, but in such a way that I wondered if he was really seeing it at all. A single tear rolled down his cheek. My heart went out to him. He had, after all, just been witness to snapshots of the tragic fate of the wizarding world. Possibly. But it was far too early in the game to even contemplate changing history.

"I see," said Dumbledore simply, his focus still on the window. The usual twinkle in his bright blue eyes was subdued, an aching sadness in its stead.

He tore his gaze from the pane of glass and his eyes met mine. His eerily calm demeanor unnerved me slightly, but quickly soothed my shaking breaths. I grasped for control of my voice as he opened his mouth to speak.

"It seems," he began slowly, "that you are telling the truth, Miss..."

"Ginevra," I whispered. My voice was thick in my throat, and my own name sounded foreign to me.

Dumbledore nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Ginevra Weasley."

The use of my surname surprised me. I regarded him questioningly.

His eyes creased slightly in a crooked smile. "When you take a trip deep into one's mind, you tend to discover such details."

My trembling lips lifted in response. "I see."

But the moment of softness was soon gone. He turned fully towards me, leaning forward, the gravity of the situation clear on his features. "Obviously more important matters need to be discussed. I know of your situation but not of what you plan to do here in the past. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"

Quick and to the point.

Taking a shaky breath, I decided just how much to tell him. There was no one I would rather be dealing with right now than my old headmaster, but I knew meddling with time, no matter how trustworthy the people encountered, required stepping carefully. Too much information handed carelessly out about oneself could lead to trouble.

I was also aware that one did not jump back hours, let alone years, without an objective in mind. Such inattention could result in aimless wandering, the eventual loss of one's sense of place and time. And I was already on shaky ground; though I knew that my goal was to change the past - and indirectly change the future - it was still unclear to me how I was going to accomplish this.

But I knew one thing.

Riddle was the key.

I was going to have to do the unthinkable, and see him. Speak to him. Be near him.

Change him.

Or kill him.

I hadn't decided yet.

"It's…complicated. I just need to be here. At Hogwarts."

He nodded slowly. Dumbledore obviously understood the implications. "Very well. I shall give you as much time as you need to fully recuperate. Do not, by any means, hurry – I can see that your wounds run deep." He fixed me with a piercing stare, and I hastened to the realization that he wasn't talking about my sliced shoulder or sprained ankle. "When you are ready, you will be directed to Headmaster Dippet's office to be sorted and placed in a year most appropriate for your magical skills and abilities. I have no doubt he would be here with you now, but he is currently occupied...elsewhere."

The hesitation, however brief, was not lost on me. But the suspicion faded as the familiar twinkle returned to his eyes. "I will return in a few days bearing lemon tarts - to aid in the healing process, of course."

I could not help myself; I smiled. Maybe even genuinely.

He was already out the door when I even thought to ask the most basic question. I addressed it to the nurse as she draped a cool cloth across my forehead and began tending to my surface wounds.

"What's the date?"

Drawing back, she smiled fondly at me. "Why it's August 30th, 1943, dear."

My hopes - and my fears - confirmed, I reluctantly settled down into my bed, allowing Madam Hillard to continue her healing. I obediently sipped the concoction she forced into my hands and let the warm liquid slide down my throat as she finished her work, wand flashing, murmured incantations coming to a close. My body began to tingle as a wonderful numbness took hold. Minutes passed and lights flicked off one by one. I waited. I tried not to think. Focusing on the feel of the cool pillow beneath my cheek, I pushed the unchecked thoughts and emotions back, forcing it all down. I would sort through it all when I was ready.

It was only when the retreating footsteps of the bustling woman reached my ears that I dared to check. A hand drifted up to my neck and felt for the timeturner's chain. Tugging it out of my shirt, I examined the glinting metal, scrutinizing, testing for any cracks or chips. All seemed to be in order. A heavy contrast to my life at the moment.

I finally let myself drift off, aided by the potion I was given. Some kind of sleeping draught. It carried me into a blissfully dreamless slumber, leaving no room in my mind for the twisted horrors, the haunting visions that would usually come calling. The screams, the pleas, the slaughter, the overwhelming blood…so much _blood_…

But I was safe now. I tried to dispel the image of the walls of Hogwarts tumbling down. I would not let this happen. I would find some way, _any_ way, to change the past. To change the future.

The fate of the world depended on it.

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><p><em>Creak.<em>

My eyes snapped open.

Blinking rapidly, I struggled to shake myself loose from slumber's vice grip. I clawed at the blankets bunched around my waist as I began to scramble out of bed. An attack. There must be an attack. My bare feet brushed the cold tile and sent a jolt through my body. Fully awake now, I paused in my frantic attempts to flee and glanced around the room. I was in a hospital wing. In Hogwarts. Back when Hogwarts was the safest place on Earth.

Safety.

Such a simple, ordinary concept.

But one I had not known in years.

With one last sweep of the dimly lit room, I sank back down into my welcoming bed. The alarm inside my head quieted. Minutes passed and my lids became increasingly heavy. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, I rolled onto my side.

A dark figure loomed by my bedside, an immobile silhouette against the faint pulsing light spilling in from the hallway.

Too deep into my inviting slumber, I only watched, dreamily, eyes half closed, as a lone hand reached towards me, pausing before it touched my shoulder. It recoiled sharply. The hand delved into the depths of the shadow about its person, slowly retracting, placing an object delicately on my bedside table.

Taking a swift step back, the figure retreated from my line of sight. I sighed sleepily.

My eyes fluttered shut.

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><p>Review if you like tall dark strangers! ;)<p>

Love, Kills


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